


Daydreaming In The Dark

by HalfshellVenus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Sex, Community: 60_minute_fics, M/M, Masturbation, One-Sided Relationship, Slash, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 07:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfshellVenus/pseuds/HalfshellVenus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Sam finds himself watching over Dean and imagining him with someone else entirely... </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daydreaming In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **60_minute_fics** , for the prompt of *cough* self-pleasuring. Also for the "Fantasy" prompt for my LiveJournal **spn_25** claim.

~*~

It's bad enough when Dean disappears at a bar, and maybe it's worse when he doesn't come back to the motel. Sam generally knows what's going on, and the less said about that the better.

But the absolute lowest is when there _is_ no motel. 

If the lady doesn't take Dean back to her place, then it's the Impala and Sam has to wait outside. Usually he stays at the bar and tries to lose himself in a beer or three or four. But sometimes he gets this feeling like he needs to _check_ on Dean. So he watches from the shadows, in case it suddenly goes bad. That's his reasoning—the explanation he can live with.

He couldn't see anything inside the car if he wanted to, not with the windows all steamed up. Instead, he listens and monitors the situation. It doesn't always go the way he plans.

Tonight is all Southern steam and cicadas, and his t-shirt clings to his skin in the hot-damp darkness. One hand on the trunk of a magnolia, he leans around for a look through the trees and brush that hide him.

The car is shut up tight, the parking lot empty but for the Impala and a beat-up sedan. Sam hears a creak arcing through the pulse of the noises around him. The black bumper lifts and the creak comes again, setting up a slow rhythm that fills Sam's head with unasked-for visions.

_Dean's face half-lit by the glow of a full moon, moving slowly above him. Eyes shut, Dean's lip caught in his teeth as he shifts and rolls in a cadence of pleasure, moving inside Sam with unhurried intensity._

Sam can almost feel the curve of Dean's fingers around the back of his neck, smell the soap-and-leather scent that clings to him even in the summer. He gulps in air against the breathlessness of those images, his hand stealing down to unbutton the front of his jeans.

He strokes himself loosely, firming his grip as he presses his face against the smooth safety of the tree that keeps him from falling. A slow sweep upward is Dean running his hand over Sam's chest. A twisting jerk downward is Dean brushing his thumb over Sam's mouth. _Up_ , and Sam's running his hands up Dean's hips, across his back and pulling him in tighter. _Down_ , and Dean's palming Sam toward pleasure himself, while he thrusts so skillfully inside him. _Up_ , and Dean's tilting forward to capture Sam's mouth with his own. _Down_ , and Dean shudders and shakes against Sam's arms as he pushes deeper, deeper and— _Ohhhhh_.

Sam spills out over his own hands, a warm, wet rush of intense, forbidden fulfillment. He shivers in spite of the heat, sagging weakly against the tree as the earthy aroma of himself, of the woods-- of remembered _Dean_ \-- swells in the humid air and surrounds him. _So real_ , he can practically feel the weight of Dean still covering him, can almost taste the salt along his throat. Sam breathes in through his mouth, short gasps stuttering forth as he brushes daring fingers across that still-sensitive skin. 

In time, the sounds of the underbrush creep forward as he comes back to himself again. A sharp, metal creak slices through that haze of satisfaction, suddenly reminding him exactly where he is.

Sam blinks as the brightness of the parking lot's streetlight invades his fantasy and renders it broken. 

The Impala has stilled now, and Dean will be ready to leave soon.

And Sam is standing there covered in the evidence of his own twisted soul, caught up in dreams of something that will never, ever happen in this hopeless, unforgiving world.

 

_\------ fin ------_


End file.
